lessons
by Lk Ivy
Summary: Small study on characters. Harry makes a decision regarding Snape.


Author's note: Small study on characters. Harry makes a decision regarding Snape. And some long needed realism for our scarred hero. It's my believe that sensible reasoning can temporarily overcome loathing. Snape's POV  
  
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.  
  
"Teach me."  
  
Snape peered contemptibly over his steepled fingers, scrutinizing the boy in front of him. Teach me. Words he had never expected coming from the mouth of the young Gryffindor, especially when directed at him, Severus Snape. He narrowed his eyes at Potter, trying to assess if the boy was insolent enough to dare make fun of him. But Potter stood before his desk, returning the gaze steadily, without flinching.   
  
It was the second day of the new school year, early in the morning. There was still one hour till breakfast started. Snape had been sitting in his office, preparing the day's lesson, when a knock had rung out. To his surprise it had been Harry Potter. The boy whom he had explicitly forbidden to ever enter his office again. And as always Potter had ignored his orders and had launched into a speech, ending with those peculiar words 'Teach me'.  
  
The animosity in the room was as tangible as ever.  
  
Both were straining to control their mutual dislike, and keep their emotions in check. The potions master's gaze casually swept over to Potter's side where his hand was buried in his pocket, balled into a fist no doubt. Maybe even coiled around his wand.  
  
Snape allowed a sneer to curl his lips.  
  
"That is no feeble request, Mr. Potter. Could you possibly illuminate me as to why I should be giving up my precious time for a petty task like that?"  
  
"I know, last time it didn't go too well- " Potter started, and Snape's features hardened instantly.  
  
He did not want to have memories of their last Occlumency lesson stirred up again. He still felt uncontrollable fury rise in him, just thinking about Potter standing right here by his desk, bent over the pensieve. The urge to throw the boy out was overwhelming.   
  
But Albus had had a word with him. And he didn't like to disappoint Albus.  
  
"-and I - I -" Potter stuttered, heaving deep breaths. Whatever was coming now, Snape knew, Potter had to force himself to say it, and he expectantly leaned forward a fraction of an inch to catch everything. He saw Harry compose himself. "In the last two months, I had time to think everything over and I must apologize for my behaviour last time I was here. I had no right to invade your privacy, sir."   
  
It sounded like he had learnt that by heart and was reciting. Anger flared up in Snape.   
  
"A touching apology indeed." he sneered. "It would have sounded more convincing, if you had meant it, however." Snape abruptly made a move to pick up a parchment from a stack on his desk, starting to work on it and not paying any further attention to Potter. A wordless dismissal.   
  
After a while Harry shifted his stance, and as Snape glanced at him he saw that panic had risen in the green eyes. "Sir?"  
  
Snape sighted, leaning back in his chair. "Mr. Potter. I am a very busy man. You have brought your request before me, I listened patiently, and I have declined. Now if you please..." he indicated the door. But Potter made no move to leave.  
  
"Sir?" Potter said again, instead of departing, now stepped closer to the desk.  
  
Hell. Would that boy ever listen to what anyone was saying?  
  
"I have to learn to defend myself, sir." Potter continued, ignoring the glare he received. "I don't want to make another mistake - I can't afford to lose -" He shook his head, abandoning this train of thoughts. "The new DADA teacher seems competent enough for the lessons, but in the past most I have learned about Defence Against the Dark Arts, I have learned outside the classroom."  
  
"Mr. Potter, I quite understand your situation. I simply don't see why you are bothering me with it."  
  
"There is no one else, is there?" Potter said, sounding defeated.  
  
  
  
"Ah. I'm being the last resort, then." Snape said loftily, transmitting clearly that Potter had just decreased his chances of having his request granted. "Go ask your current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He may have some time to spare for the likes of you."   
  
"It's not just that, sir."   
  
And now Potter looked nervous, his eyes involuntarily swivelling sideways to the door, even if it was out of his visual range. Snape cocked his head inquiringly.  
  
Potter took a deep breath, steeling himself.  
  
"I need to learn the Dark Arts, Professor. It's - It's the only way. My only chance to stand against the Death Eaters and Voldemore."  
  
Snape's eyes glinted. Had he heard correctly? Harry Potter, noble Gryffindor, wanted to learn the Dark Arts, and was seriously considering using them on human beings?  
  
"Mr. Potter. As you should be very well aware, this institution does not deem it appropriate to teach its students the Dark Arts."  
  
"I know, sir." Harry said silently. "That's why I'm coming to you."  
  
Snape regarded Harry triumphantly for a long time.  
  
"Your father would be proud." He finally said with malice.  
  
But instead of hatred Snape had expected to see in Potter's eyes, Harry looked...what? Guilty, sad, afraid - afraid to disappoint. To disappoint a dead man.  
  
"My father was very clear on his opinion about the Dark Arts, and I respect that." He looked up defiantly now, daring Snape to make a derogative comment about his father. "But he was in a different situation than I am, and he has grown up differently. And I have to make decisions on my own. Sirius is dead, and I have no one to advise me anymore." Harry forced his voice to be steady. This confession, and Snape saw it for what it was, seemed to demanding incredible willpower. "The Death eaters won't care that I hadn't had a proper education in the Dark Arts. So I made a decision. And you're the best man for it when it comes to the Dark Arts, sir."  
  
Snape saw with amusement, that the boy was almost choking on the last words.   
  
But after a second, he realised with a start that he was feeling an unsuitable satisfaction on hearing those words, hearing the praise from the Potter boy. It was almost soothing. As if being granted something long denied.  
  
The boy's opinion should and could not matter, he reminded himself.  
  
Instead, he concentrated on the glee the fact brought, that Potter's own son was planing to indulge in the very thing his former enemy so wholeheartedly despised.  
  
"So, the noble boy wants to get his hands dirty." He murmured, more to himself than to Harry.  
  
"I feel it's necessary." Harry immediately began to justify himself. "I'm in danger..."  
  
"As is everyone else." Snape interrupted. "I simply fail to see what makes you so exceptional." Potter's head was still so swollen... "You are not the saviour of the wizarding world." he pressed on.  
  
The boy startled into saying something, already opening his mouth but apparently thought better of it. He shifted uncomfortably, and it seemed that he was mentally debating whether to speak aloud what was on his mind or not.   
  
"I am not saying that I am the saviour of wizarding world, sir - " Harry started, carefully weighting his words. "But the fact is that Voldemore is directly after me. So, the chances are high that it will be me who will get close to him. I will have to face him eventually. I don't intend to die, sir." He added, voice faltering. "If you - If you teach me, I promise, I will work hard. I will obey."  
  
"And I shall feel grateful now? The great Harry Potter feels inclined to obey his teachers."  
  
Whatever amount of patience Potter had entered the room with, was now wearing thin.  
  
"What I'm saying is, that you have my full respect." he said urgently.  
  
Snape clenched his fist in his lap. The nerve of the boy, presenting an argument like that. He did not wish to have the boy's respect. He hated that the boy was delusional enough to think it was something desirable to gain the boy's respect in the first place. Proud and arrogant as ever.  
  
Snape shook his head, and got up from his chair, walking around his desk and past Potter down the room, his gaze absentmindedly sweeping over the shelves filled with jars.  
  
Arrogant... Yet, he came down to the dungeons to him. That had never happened before, had it? Could it be that Potter for once had learned something out of his mistakes. Realised that if he had come to him the last time, Snape would have helped him - albeit reluctantly - and Black's petty life would have been saved.  
  
Today Potter had done something, he could not claim himself. He had swallowed his pride.   
  
But he even went further than that, and showed a glimpse of maturity, abandoned the ludicrous Gryffindor fixation on chivalry, threw some principles out of the window for the simple necessity of his own survival. That was quite a healthy Slytherin trait. The boy had to be desperate to risk disappointing Dumbledore, a dread probably being the only thing the two of them ever had in common.  
  
And in the silence, Potter's voice rang out once more.  
  
"Please."   
  
Softly spoken.   
  
Snape stopped, and turned around. He expected Potter to avoid his eyes, but the youth met his gaze steadily. The undercurrent of panic still shone in them, and most likely wouldn't leave them till the whole ordeal with the Dark Lord would be over.  
  
A completely vulnerable Gryffindor, at his disposal.  
  
Snape felt the mind-numbing urge to hurt, right there and then, when the harm he could cause Potter would be abysmal.   
  
To refuse him now...  
  
For a refusal at this moment would shatter the boy's believes, that everyone in the wizarding world lived to serve him; would destroy whatever confidence he had in Snape and had made him come down to him in the first place; and would once and for all show him that the world didn't revolve around his head.  
  
...  
  
But that would be petty.   
  
And could possibly lead to the boy's death, and therefor nullify all his previous attempts to keep him alive. Even if he had never received the appreciation, he thought he had deserved for that.   
  
And Snape didn't like futility.  
  
Potter was right in one thing: he would almost certainly be the target again; of the Dark Lord himself, or of an over-zealous Deatheater, who was trying to impress his master. In the past four five years, they continuously failed to keep him out of trouble. Not that this was their fault.  
  
In the upcoming fights, Snape was sure he would lose many of his Slytherins, who would be convinced by their parents to fight for the 'right side'. He could already see the fanatic gleam in some of their eyes. And spy or no spy, he had helped plant it there. He could not positively influence his fellow Slytherins and had to watch helplessly as they brought down their own demise.   
  
But he could at least save this one boy.  
  
"I see." Snape said slowly, straightening up. "The Defence Against the Dark Arts, I can do. I will plan your lessons, and use up your evening hours at my whims. You will receive theoretical and practical lessons. Furthermore you will get additional homework, and I will test you regularly. A drop in your performance, and I cancel any further lessons. I will provide you with the appropriate books out of the restricted section of the library and some volumes from my personal stack. And if you use any spell in a misappropriate manner against any fellow student, I'll make sure you get expelled."  
  
He pondered for a moment, hoping his sharp words had the right effect on Potter.  
  
"As for actively practicing the Dark Arts, I don't think Professor Dumbledore would approve..." Snape saw the boy starting to interrupt, as if to say that Dumbledore wouldn't have to know. Snape continued smoothly "...and you surely don't expect me to do anything behind the headmaster's back, betray Dumbledore's trust just for your sake?" Potter shook his head, eyes downcast. "Indeed."  
  
He sent one last contemptible glance at Harry, the Boy Who Would Live, if he had anything to say in the matter.  
  
"Dismissed." 


End file.
